What can be done with your data after you’re gone?

During Easter and Passover, many people take the opportunity to contemplate freedom from bondage and new beginnings — including deep thoughts about death, resurrection, and the afterlife.

I won’t presume to be an expert on such existential matters, but I am interested in a new chapter in this eternal debate: a philosophical examination of the nature of data and humanity.

With all the news about Facebook leaks and data breaches, people are understandably concerned about the privacy and security of their personal information. In fact, it’s somewhat of an open question of who owns your data today. You provide it (willingly or otherwise), social media companies monetize it, and hackers steal it.

But what happens when you’re gone? Who owns your data then?

The policies concerning account information and online data of the dearly departed are not something most people think about – until they have to. If someone in your family passes away, do you have the ability to access their accounts without their passwords? Can you download their data, postings, and media? Can you discontinue their online presence, or are they doomed to exist as a virtual ghost forever? These are issues with which the courts are already struggling.

Looking a few years into the future, could your data history be used to create a digital avatar of your past life? How much storage and computing power would be needed to simulate you with enough fidelity to pass the Turing test? How would society react to a perpetual digital afterlife?

I think it would be very tempting for some people to agree to even a poor simulation of a loved one if they could carry on simple conversations with them. This is not that far-fetched: think of a new version of Alexa or Siri, imbued with artificial intelligence, able to download personas and interact much as the original person did. Would you have the strength of will to say no?

What if your consciousness was brought back, with nearly complete data memories, in a body genetically engineered to look and act the way you used to - at any age desired. Would your family welcome you home? What if many years had passed between your passing and revival? What if you were like Dune’s Duncan Idaho, a clone purposely remade for as long as others wanted, with no concern for your wishes - how could you ever escape?

(End note: I will be speaking about “Digital Afterlife” at the Big Data Florida meeting at 6 p.m. Monday. The meeting takes place in Room 204 of the Evans Library at the Florida Institute of Technology. The talk is free and open to the public.)

Scott Tilley is a professor at the Florida Institute of Technology in Melbourne. Contact him at TechnologyToday@srtilley.com.